


Conductivity

by LuminescentWhirlpool



Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, i mean i guess, un-beta'd
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-17
Updated: 2018-12-17
Packaged: 2019-09-21 19:36:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17049314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LuminescentWhirlpool/pseuds/LuminescentWhirlpool
Summary: On correcting mistakes, or avoiding them.





	Conductivity

 

Robin watches as the grass pressed and contorted underneath the weight of her feet. With each step, dew squeezed from the blades of grass, sticking to the leather of her boots. The air had grown to an impressive still, the chill of it giving her solace. Comforting in it's placidity.

It was well past the hours she should be awake, but walking out to this field brought a sliver of comfort to her in her currently distraught state. Back at camp, back at her tent, her bed—it was much too suffocating, too consuming, chaotic and constrictive. Stillness was a virtue she envied right now; if only she could be like the grass or the wind.

She tries to take a deep breath, let the calm of the air wash into her. But it doesn't work. She can feel the memories creeping into the edge of her mind.

 _Don’t think about it,_ she tells herself.  _Don't think about it, Don't think about it, Don't think about it._

Which of course, telling herself this can only mean,  _to_  think about it.

In the middle of that field, alone, Robin grips onto her head. She wills her memories to stop before they can fully play, screws her eyes shut.  _P_ _lease just stop._  

She begs herself to concentrate on the smell of the wet grass, the wind that blows every other second, desperate to stop the memories as they come… but the images continue. They turn over and over like waves during a tide, a storm that threatens to pull her under.

The look of bewilderment that violently crashed over Chrom’s features remained soldered in her mind; his brow knitted deep in surprise as he turned to see his own wife pulling forcefully at the prized emblem that decorated his left arm. He had called out her name with a tinge of carefulness in his voice--almost as if in attempt to find some facet of Robin’s plan he had missed out on during briefing earlier. The question in his call was left unanswered however, and Robin was left desperately trying to open her mouth and scream against her traitorous actions.

She had ripped the emblem cold from his grasp and immediately handed it to Validar, the dark sorcerer-ruler of Plegia, who of all things, claimed to also be her father.

What happened after that was much a blur to Robin; coming back to her senses, a fumbled apology bursting from her lips like water at an overwhelmed levee, a glimpse of Chrom’s face stricken with equal parts budding rage and betrayal, Frederick’s needle-sharp instincts immediately rushing him to his charge’s side, putting his arm out between Chrom and Robin like she was some immediate threat, Lucina’s wide open eyes of disbelief lancing straight through the stone-still frame of her mother.

Validar’s triumphant laugh rings vividly through her tormented mind, and Robin lets out a strangled squeak, accepting defeat against squashing the multiple rehashes of her latest failure to her husband.  _It 's no use._  She thinks bitterly,  _It's not possible_ _to escape these thoughts._

At the very least it would prove useless to stay up all night trying. She was to be expected to go over new plans with both Chrom and Frederick in the morning, and she would need as much of her aptitude as able if she were to help in rectifying her mistake. Finally letting go of her head, Robin takes one last look at the serenity of this open field, the moonlight reflecting off the body of grass almost iridescently, the blowing wind giving it a near shimmering appearance. It's such a beautiful sight, it truly is a shame that her heart and mind are too twisted currently to fully enjoy it. She turns and begins to make her way back to camp.

 A small part of Robin, didn’t want to admit to herself that another equally significant factor of her reluctance to turn in for the night was that she dreaded the idea of returning to her tent with Chrom, and laying her treacherous body next to his in their shared cot. She had successfully managed to avoid everyone at camp after the ordeal by holing herself in her tent, pouring over her strategies and texts. There were a few attempts from some of the Shepherds to reach out to her, each wanting to grant their tactician some sort of consolation. Gaius had painfully offered to share a slice of cake he had been harboring away. Nowi tried initiating one of her many games with her. Morgan showed her a book he had bought from a street bazaar a week back, and even Chrom himself tried to reach out. To each of them she turned down and away, the last possibly more forcibly than the others, and the message eventually clearly went through that Robin wanted no more than to be left alone.

 _It was funny_ , she thought resentfully, that just over two years ago, she had innocently looked forward to learning about the life she once lived before Chrom had found her in that field and gave her a new one. But now, as she pulls away each thread that ties around the hidden haze of her past, uncovering a fragment of a larger history, one by one, each more sinister than the last, Robin can only feel a dark miasma stretching deeper and darker within her. The miasma sits heavy in her gut and drills deeply into her mind, mocking her. It taunts the same thing to her, over and over, and she cannot drown it out... She might as well go down the list.  If she must be masochistic, best to do it willingly.

Daughter of The Plegian King. Mysterious doppelganger that could possibly be her long-lost twin. Susceptible to her father’s dark magic, which makes her a danger to not only herself but to her own allies. 

...Does she deserve to stand alongside the Shepherds? Does she even belong here? Everything that they are willing to fight for, she can ruin it all. A threat to everyone, a threat to her own family.

She approaches the tent, but her thoughts spin out of her control, begin to grow more intense, more malicious. She breaks into a run and rushes into her tent to find something to quickly distract herself with; a map, some of her battle texts, strategy notes--anything.

Once inside, she immediately notices the illuminating light of a candle flame--one that was not lit when she left--and her heart drops. She hadn’t expected him to be awake, she was careful not to wake him when she stepped out.

 _No_. She thinks miserably,  _Let's not do this now._

“Robin,” his voice calls out, and with a small draw of breath, she slowly turns her gaze to him. 

He’s sitting at the edge of his side of on the cot, still dressed down for bed. He looks tired, but concerned. Robin knows he sat there and waited for her.

“Chrom,” she returns, speaking slowly. “Why are you awake?” It's a stupid question, but Robin wants to stall time. Draw this out. Hopefully, he'll give up. She knows better than that, though.

“Because  _you’re_  not in bed like you  _should_   be,” He starts, giving her an incredulous look. As if he couldn't believe she had the nerve to even ask. “You know how much we have to do tomorrow.”

“I do," She begins, preparing to steer the conversation away from that accusation, away from her. "But I have already gotten a head start on ideas for how we should next proceed, and I’m sure I’ll be more than able to pick up where I left off with you and Frederick in the morning. Don't worry about me.”

He angles his head slightly upward to better level his gaze with her from where he sits, brows pushing together. Robin doesn't like that look. He's caught on to what she's trying to do, and he's not going to back down.

“Yes… right, the ideas you gathered when you shut everyone out and stayed in here alone all of today.”

“You know that I sometimes need space when I am strategizing, Chrom.”

“You know that is not the issue, Robin.”

And there it is.

A silence draws. Robin bites her lower lip gently, not wanting to say anything else.  _Why can’t you just let it be?_   She thinks to herself. She doesn’t want to have to explain why she’s upset, doesn’t want to place the memories right at the forefront of her mind again, not when she tried so long to push them away. Not when it hurts this much.

Chrom watches his wife closely, taking in her apprehension. His eyes close shut as he sighs, thinking of what next to say. He opens them again, gaze softening, the stiffness of preparing to argue dissipating, “There is no benefit in closing yourself off to everyone around you, love.”

When she doesn't answer, only looking at her feet, Chrom rises from the cot, crossing the tent to stop immediately in front of Robin. He lowers his eyes down to her, hands landing on her shoulders. She looks up at him, still unable to offer anything to say. She is drained--exhausted from the madness of Validar's mind-sorcery earlier, worn from the grief of replaying that failure in her head over and over, and worse, defeated by what it implies. Afraid of what she fears she cannot fight.

"Robin," he starts, jogging her out of her head, "Robin, look, I know with what happened today, you feel responsible for this, as if it's your fault... But it's not. He did that to you... Validar. _He_  forcedyou to take the Emblem, you would never do that on your own. I  _know_ you would never do that on your own. You can't blame yourself for something that is not your fault."

He finishes, closing his eyes pensively, reflecting on what he just said. After a moment, he lets out a small draw of breath, returning his gaze to her, assured in his conviction. Unwilling to slight her for the loss.

 _You trust me too much,_ she thinks,  _Any sane man would consider you a fool for it._

_You place this faith in me, and it could get you killed. Don't you get that? Do you even care?_

The realization sends her mind reeling. A gasp rising out of her almost like a choked sob. She thrashes out of his grip and places her hands to his chest to push him away.

He staggers back, bewildered, but immediately regains his balance and steps forward to bridge the divide she has just placed. She steps back again, away from him, like a cornered animal. Tears prick at her eyes. She blinks them away. Holds her breath, fights down the rest of them threatening to choke back up. Chrom stands in place, frustration building on his features. He reaches his arm out to her—and she does not move, right there in that  _distance—_ so he can only let it fall back to his side. He gives up, doesn't try to get close, watches her from his side of the tent like there was an impassable current between them.

She needs to pull her composure back together. She stares at that single candle just beyond Chrom, laying on the table covered with her maps of the Plegian region. The flame is low, wick nearly met to its end. It grants them the only source of light in the tent, and Robin watches its dim glow, trying to steady her heartbeat along with the dying flame. It won't do to cry right now; that'll only spur him to try and console her, comfort her because she _is_  upset, but not  _why_. She doesn't need him to do that. She needs him to listen.

"Chrom," she breathes shakily, turning from the candle to look him on directly, " _Think_ about what happened today. Just…just—" she can hardly find the words, can hardly sort the thoughts in her mind.

"...Think.” She places a finger to her temple, and his expression—a forcefully neutral one—does not change.

“We lost the Emblem, now Validar has it. And like you just said, I…I didn't do it on my own... He forced me. He  _forced_ me, Chrom." The words settle like poison in her mouth, and she can feel an onset of hyperventilating approaching, but she pushes it down, because she needs to finish this, she needs him to know this. Another ragged breath, "Please...please think about what that means."

She searches his eyes, hoping she can find some kind of absolution; some kind of release from this guilt that has been gnawing at her heart and her conscience. She doesn't want his forgiveness. It only hurts her more. What does she want?  _Anything. Anything, but this._

Chrom continues to watch her with his neutral expression, then says slowly, his voice barely above that of a whisper but resolute all the same, “Do you feel that I should resent you for it?”

His words ring out, and they hit Robin to her core. A damning silence falls on them, and almost instinctively, she shakes her head side to side viciously, the world spinning as she does.  _No, no, that’s not it, I—_

But she freezes midway, unable to continue, because that  _is_ what she wanted. As though it was what she deserved, for hurting the one she loved most. She wanted his anger, his rage—because how could she fail him this way— _again—_ after everything he’s ever done for her? After every time he’s forgiven her shortcomings, for  _Emmeryn_ ,  _how, how, how_  could she do it  _again_?

He’s still watching her, and suddenly he seems so far away. He is truly tired, the exhaustion deep in his features, and seeing that causes the first sob to push through, Robin unable to force the rest of them down.

A hand flies to her mouth, clasping it shut. The tears leak over her hands, and she blurrily sees them drip onto her boots. She kneels over, pleading with herself to stop, eyes closing tightly.  It’s too late though—and he’s crossed to her side instantly, lowering down and circling an arm around her.

“Robin,” he says, and she can feel the timbre of his voice from his chest pressed to her shoulder. She shudders, and he pulls her closer. “Robin,” he says again, firmly, and his voice is like an anchor and she is sinking but she cannot take it.

“Love, look at me. Look at me, please.” She feels his hand lightly touch the side of her face. A moment passes, and they sit there together, in silence. The tent is near total-darkness as the candle begins to fade out. Finally, with a pathetic sniffle, she raises her head and looks at him, eyes rimmed red with tears. She is grateful for the darkness, he doesn't have to see just how deep the shame really is.

"I'm sorry," she finally manages to croaks out, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Chrom," It's all she can say. But oh, how badly does she mean it.

Chrom abruptly shifts so that he is facing her directly. He pulls her into an embrace, and for a while they remain like that. 

He squeezes her, just a bit, and she buries her head into the crook of his neck and shoulder, trying to calm herself.

"I don't blame you," he says, the words rattling into her head, "I don't blame you, Robin. Not at all."

She opens her mouth, already forming a protest, "But-"

"But what?" He interjects, pulling them apart so that he can look at her in the face. He can hardly see her though, so he instead places his forehead against hers, and she sniffles once more. He is about to speak again, but something in him tells him to wait. To wait for her.

Her voice is small when she speaks up, a whisper as though her words were dangerous.

"I don't want to hurt you again. It would... It..." she pauses, recollecting herself. "It would kill me."  She finishes, and this, she is absolutely sure of.

"You're not hurting me, Robin. And you never have."

"What if he controls me again? What are we to do, then?"

"He won't." He says assuredly, "That I promise you."

"And you're not afraid?" She tries one last time, voice wavering as the words come, "Not afraid of what...what I could do?"

He doesn't answer immediately. Robin feels his breath softly fan on her face as he exhales, and then he says, "No. I'm not afraid of you, Robin. Validar could never make me."

With this, the strength to argue leaves Robin, and she sags against him. She is utterly fatigued, head throbbing and heart aching over this mess that she has felt so utterly powerless against. He supports her weight, cradling her, and she lets him, so desperately needing his solidity. 

"We're going to get through this together, Robin." He mutters into the top of her head, and Robin closes her eyes, willing herself to empty her mind and let his words fill the absence.

"But I need you. I need your strength. I need you to trust me on this, as I do you."

"I trust you," she whispers, "Completely." And she does. 

She raises her hand to his face, lightly cups along the side of his jaw.  She hasn't touched him since the incident, and it has felt like an eternity.

As much as it scares her--Validar and his mysterious power over her-- She knows that Chrom's faith in her is unwavering, has always been, and he is right; instead of pushing him away, instead of giving up, she needs to face this head on. She must, in order to protect them both. 

The thought sends a surge of decisiveness through her, and she takes a deep breath into the fabric of his tunic, picks her head up to look up at him. The candlelight is now nonexistent; but the moonlight spilling into the tent allows her to see an illuminated form of his face. When their eyes meet, there is a newfound resolve reflected between the both of them.

Chrom breaks the silence, "Well then, the first thing I believe we should do now is get some much needed sleep... We can work the rest out tomorrow. Do you trust me on that?"

She smiles then, an easy one. "I do."

He returns the gesture, an ear-to-ear grin that flashes bright even in the dimness of the tent. "Let's get to it, then."

With one swift heave, he hauls both of them to their feet. Robin stumbles a bit, slightly disoriented from the crying and staying awake so long. With a hand on her shoulder, he steadies her, then guides her back to the cot. 

She undresses, and they get settled in; it doesn't take too long for him to begin drifting off. Robin turns in his arms to face him, brushes a few strands of his hair out of his face. She can feel his breathing evening out, and a pang of guilt shoots through her at the thought of troubling him so.

”I’m sorry, love.” She murmurs, placing a feather-light kiss to his jaw, “I never meant to worry you.”  Just because she wasn’t able to get any sleep didn’t mean he had to suffer as well.

”It’s alright.” He mumbles, sleep pulling heavy on him. “Get some rest, Robin.”

She tucks herself under his chin, fitting there perfectly, and let’s her eyes close. The worries that lie in her heart feel muted, washed under the serenity of her love for her husband and the unflagging determination that she has to protect to him. They are still there however, and they will still be there in the morning.

But she will be ready for them. And she will find a way to fix what damage she has done, there are no other options.

"I love you," she whispers to him, and it matters not that he doesn't hear it. The gears in her head have started turning, and when sleep finally comes to claim Robin, she sleeps soundly knowing that whatever comes next, they will face it head on together.

**Author's Note:**

> gee, the ending was hard to write. i don't remember if chrom and robin even actually address the whole stealing-the-emblem-while-under-mind-control-thing. i think it's like...one line of an apology something in game. idk. anyways, i had to slam my head against a wall a couple times to find a way to close this one up. lol.
> 
> as always, thanks for reading <3


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